Madness
by Drawkcab
Summary: Hermione Granger was insane. There was no doubt in any mind in the wizarding world, if that mind cared to think of it. Abandoned fic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N : This story may contain some violence and sexual situations. If you are offended by such things then please take great care if you wish to continue on.**

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Hermione Granger was insane. There was no doubt in any mind in the wizarding world, if that mind cared to think of it. However, despite this well established fact no seemed to mind that the barking mad witch ran around unchecked in London. For the wizarding world was quite use to madness and while Hermione had a respectable amount of lunacy it was not to point where anyone bothered trying to stop her. Then again, it had taken a ridiculously expansive amount of time for the magical public to recognize and vainly try to stop both Grinlewald and Voldemort, but, perhaps the reason that it had taken so long for the magical community to react may have to do with the fact that a good eighty percent were insane in one form or another. It was rather like trying to get the patients of a mental facility to recognize and treat the illness of their peers, but no matter. The inter workings of the magical world would not change the fact that Hermione Grange was insane. She was desperately, deliriously, brilliantly, superbly... out of her mind, and that's what brings us to the beginning of our tale.

All life has a certain vicissitude even when it seems at a complete standstill. What may seem like a endless pattern of the same day is in fact not a repartition but rather a slight, or some times large, variation of life. For many, finding the differences in these patterns is a simple matter and it gives them hope of change and meaning, but for others... For others, they can only see a stark repeating dullness. That every day begins and ends with the sun. That we raise, go about our day, only to sleep again. While that pattern might be comforting to some, to the heroine of this story this grind pulled heavily on her. She could not see the slight changes in the day. To Hermione it was the same; day after day, week after week. Their was no variety, no change, no hope. There are many possible reasons for this feeling of hers but the most prominent was in coma on the first floor of St. Mungo's in room 121.

Hermione's smile was brittle as she passed Maire in Reception. The pretty blonde sent Hermione a bright smile back, one that made Hermione grimace. Maire reminded her of what she could have been in life; a lover, a wife... a mother. Hermione brushed a hand down her lime green robes as she walked up to the first floor to do her rounds. There was no reason that she still couldn't be all those things, but Hermione wasn't sure if she wanted them or, at least, some of them. That is what she told herself, and later, Ron when the subject had risen. Now it seemed the moment had passed and Hermione was unsure if another opportunity would come her way. Hermione re-plastered her bitter grin as she reached room 100. Opening the door quietly Hermione set about her work with a bit more energy then usual in hopes that work would distract her from the thoughts of her failings. Her break up with Ron. The Mithridate that she could never brew right and the guilt about the man that lay like death in room 121. The man that was there, in part, because of her. The man who was deemed by everyone else in the magical community, a lost cause.

When Hermione reached room 121 her feeling of inadequacy had faded some what. However, as she entered the guilt returned in a rush. The room was an odd shape and minuscule in size. A single bed filled half the room and the light from the window was soft and peaceful. The room was the same as it had always been; filled with the soft sounds of breathing and a low hum of magic, but today. Today when Hermione came into this pleasant looking room she felt something rip inside her.

No one ever really knows what made Hermione do what she did. For she never spoke of it after the deed was done. Maybe because she didn't quite know why she did what she did herself. That didn't stop people coming up with ill guided ideas as to why. Why Hermione Grange would risk her life for someone that cared little for her. Many thought that it was the sight of his wound, a deep ugly purple, almost black, around the two punctures in his neck. Others say that she broke at the thought of losing his brilliant mind. Those closest to her scoffed at the latter two ideas. 'No,' they would say 'there is no reason. Hermione is just insane, absolutely and utterly insane.' That was perhaps the nearest to the truth but it matters little as to _why_. All that really matters is that she _did_.

That Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, did something shockingly stupid on that fine Monday morning.

She cast Legilimens on one Severus Snape.

Knowing that delving into the mind of a coma patient could, most likely would, kill her or at least rob her of any higher brain function. When she cast that one spell. Hermione Granger changed the course of her life forever, maybe even the course of magical history.

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**A/N : Thank you all for taking time to read this fickle little fic. If you see any problems, misspellings, or grammatical errors please take time to tell me about them. I tend to have problems updating stories but hearing back about my writing good or bad helps me. So please, review if you can.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I had many doubts about uploading this story to Fanfiction, in fact I almost didn't, but thanks to all of you that read and especially those that reviewed I've had the motivation to move forward. This is a thanks to you all. Please enjoy.**

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Severus Snape's mind was rather like drifting in a sea of viscous liquid, corn syrup perhaps? No, more like the sap of a tree that trapped insects in it's grasp, holding them lovingly for all time. Hermione felt a strong urge to just drift, to be swallowed up, to never deal with the cruel word again. She felt herself sink deeper at these thoughts. The sweet liquid sucking gently at her begging her to let it take care of her worn beaten being.

Despite, or perhaps because of, these sweet whisperings Hermione pulled back, making Severus' mind roll and boil in a kind of sleepy anger. Hermione skimmed along the surface careful to not be pulled in again as his mind drifted back into tranquility. What seemed like hours passed as Hermione danced along looking for some form of land in this sticky sea. Their was none, only flashes of light that flickered under the surface. She had passed over the whole of his mind twice before she realized that the only way was down. Into the sickly sweet depths of the sea that threatened to devourer her.

Hermione had very little skill in Legilimency. Oh, she understood the method but the practice was rather slippery. In fact if the truth was told this was very first time she had delivered into any mind let alone one as complicated, complex and cunning as her former potions master's. So where an experienced Legilimens would have fished the memories to them Hermione dived right in. Right into the middle of Severus' essence. After all Hermione Granger had inherited a sort of temerity from the long influence of her two best friends. So just when she had first cast the spell Hermione thought little of the danger and more of the need. The great inanition that filled her very being.

The liquid seemed to bubble happily as she submerged herself. Hermione pushed herself deeper making the fluid around her ooze into her nose and mouth. The lights she had seen before flickered passed like groups of small fish. They were memories. Hermione felt a chill pass over her they reminded her of the thought chamber in the Department of Mysteries. The tail that had followed behind the brains. The damage such things could do to flesh. She was careful not to touch them as they waved and bobbed around her.

Down, down, down she went into this abyss until the dim light of memories vanished. This is what nothing felt like, what Hermione imagined death was, and if not death then limbo. There was no up or down anymore there was nothing and in a strange sense everything. She drifted for, to her, years: being but not being, living but not living. Hermione loved it. The absence of need from anyone but herself. Here she didn't have to worry if she had chosen the right path in life. There was no worry about Ron or Harry. In fact there was almost not thoughts at all. Just the sense of peace. So when her feet hit something solid she was rather startled. Her knees followed her feet and soon Hermione's whole body was resting against something soft and rather gritty, like sand? She moved her hand across the surface. Yes, sand. Guilt hit the bottom of her gut as she remembered. Severus. That is what she was here for. Severus Snape. Another stab to the pit of her stomach as his name filled her mind. Hermione rolled over so her back rested against the sand. What could she do now she had come this far? The sharp pain started again as she reached her answer. Nothing. What could she do? She had traveled through his memories and subconscious, almost losing herself in the process and had found nothing. Nothing. This was the end. Hermione ran her hand against the loose grains. What could she do? Despair hit her. She was nothing. A hollowness filled her heart. Not like before when she had been a part of nothing, now; she was nothing. The darkness that had held her a float before now pressed down violently. The weight crushed her lungs and seeped into her eyes and desperation filled her. This would not be her end.

No it would not!

Hermione flipped back to her knees and begin to dig. She had to get away from this darkness, she had to. She ripped away at the sand until her hands bleed and still the dark rippled around her. No, no, no, no, it would not end like this. Just as she started to give up hope she broke through. She wiggled her arms and head through the hole she had made. It was just as dark on this side as it had been on the other. Hermione didn't care she had to get away from that, that, whatever that was. She pulled her chest and hips through before the pulling started. A strong tug on her leg and ankle made terror ripple within her. Before it, whatever it was, could yank at her again Hermione kicked pulling upwards with heartfelt desperation. She didn't look back. Not that it would have mattered. The darkness was just as deep as before. However, the feel was different. It was more... blue, rather then the deep crushing blackness it had been before. Hermione shook herself as she moved forward. It was a ridiculous idea; more blue, but still, she couldn't shake the feeling and the more she moved the stronger the feeling got. Until Hermione couldn't deny the fact. The world, or whatever it was, was indeed blue and turning lighter with every second that passed. When Hermione broke through the surface she spluttered and gasped. It was strange to breath again. Hermoine stumbled forward landing on her hands and knees trying to regain her breath, not quite processing the site before her.

At this point in our story our heroine has been very lucky, very lucky indeed. She had passed through memories of horror that could of devoured her whole and had drifted in a darkness that should have driven her to the very brink of insanity, that is if she had not crossed that line long ago. Now, that luck had run out and Hermione Granger met the one thing that could and, if provoked, would take delight in destroying her. Oh, yes. She had found the conscious part of Severus Snape's mind and it, or rather, he was ticked off.

"What are you doing here, you stupid girl!" Maybe ticked off was not the right word, no, it was more along the lines of livid.

Now, before the story can move on again, there is something that must be explained. That is, the natural and unnatural state of Severus Snape's disposition. After all this tale takes place in what could be called the core, or if one is feeling particularity religious then soul, of this man's very being.

So, what needs to be understood at this point in time is that Severus Snape is not a tragic hero as some like to paint him as. In fact if the truth is to be told Severus Snape is naturally a bitter, mean and ill-tempered man. Who is not one to easily forget past grievances but as with all human beings, the very nature of his person could not, or rather should not, be held in a few characteristics.

For when we remember the good we must not forget the evil, just as when we think of evil we cannot brush aside the good and Severus Snape, while not a dark and misunderstood hero, was, most of the time, an over all good man.

However, this is when the talk of unnatural inclinations must be brought up. People, even the very best of people, can sometimes, if the conditions stack against them, turn into monsters. Those who are kind can enjoy maiming someone else, if perhaps, that person had mutilated or adulterated them. People who became sick at the sight of blood could kill another person if they thought the world would be better for it. The types of situations where a person could be turned into a monster are endless and Severus Snape in particular was a tricky sort to cast an honest judgment upon because depending on were you met him he could be a horror that rested in the deepest depths of evil or he could simply be a man, a cranky ill-humored man, but a man none the less; one that was easily hurt, more often then not stretched past his breaking point and enjoyed playfully antagonizing those around him.

Many may ask what sort of shade of gray he was the point that Hermione met him within his own mind and in this case, Hermione's luck indeed had worn out. For the Severus that Hermione faced had been crushed, this Severus no longer had hope for his life, her's, or humanity's. The man that Hermione faced was mad, not brilliantly nor beautifully but in a broken sort of way. This was a kind of madness to be feared. An insanity that consumed all round it until there was nothing left. Nothing at all.


	3. Chapter 3

So here we are looking at the insane and the mad trapped in the tricky substance of a crazed human mind. As those of you with the least bit of sense can guess this was not a pleasant sort of meeting. In fact with the two sorts of personalities that met the situation would be hard pressed to worsen. For Hermione had what Severus thought to be a naive belief in the goodness of human kind. While Severus was being histrionically misanthropic from Hermione's point of view.

Two people with drastically opposing opinions that where both equally as insane and stubborn as the other. No, this meeting was doomed to be of the violent sort and so it was from the moment that Hermione opened her mouth and asked the elder magical being to come back with her. To return to the world of, what had been to him, one misfortune after another. Needless to say Severus refused Hermione's offer and at the end of the quarrel Severus did something that would make the little witch see the light, or rather, the darkness of humanity. Severus did something that only a madman, a partial monster, would do. Severus snared Hermione in the worse memories of his life. He showed her what evil really was.

The fight had been a real surprise to Hermione for she had thought that the only reason that Severus didn't leave the coma was because he couldn't. The fact that he had swarmed her with memories was less of a shock. Hermione thought back briefly to that moment, the look of malice on his face as the lights she had seen in the first layer of his mind rushed towards her like a wave.

She was pulled back to the scene in front of her when the sound of a bone being broken made her insides flip and roll with disgust. A scrawny dark haired boy was cowering before her the looming frame of a tall broad shouldered man stood over him. The sound seemed strange here as if she was listening from another room, hearing bits and pieces of words but most sounding like a dull muttering. The child's right leg was bend at a sicking angle as the poor boy tried to slide away from the man that had caused the injury. Hermione felt tears run down her cheek at the sound of broken sobs of the child. The man spat at the boy his words muffled, and with one last dirty look left the darkened room. The silky voice of Severus Snape whispered in her ear, clear sounding and filled with anger.

"That was my father as you can see he was not a... kind man." Hermione felt her heart twist as she gagged. That was Severus' father? The voice didn't stop there, it's dark sound licking hotly against her ear.

"That particular punishment was, if I remember correctly, after I had dropped and broken a glass plate while doing the dishes. He had seen me fix it with magic."

The world rushed around them and stopped again, letting them to see the same thin boy from before. He was being pushed down into a dark dirty hole in what looked a cellar. The pit was just big enough for the child to sit with his knees drawn to his chest. They watched as the heavy wooden door was closed and bolted, the child encased inside.

"A favorite of my father's. He would leave me in there for a few days, without food." He kept talking spilling the words softly into her mind, filling it with terror, horror and pity.

"The more you cried the longer you stayed in the pit." He laughed bitterly and asked her in a cool sweet voice.

"Do you still think that people are good, Her-mon-ie?" All she could do was cry quietly, making Severus' bitter laugh louder.

"Now that you know there are beasts in this world, let's see if you still want me released into it. Your so called Hero."

The world swirled around them again. This time they where outside. Three unmasked young men stood in a circle snickering at a red haired young woman. A child of two, maybe three, held tightly to her chest. One of the men flicked his wand and the lady dropped to the ground twitching, screaming. Hermione looked on as the woman and child where ripped apart.

His voice was soft as he whispered the words that he knew damned him.

"I was a part of this, not as a spy, but as a death eater. I defiled that woman because I wanted to. I killed her because it made me feel... powerful. The abused became the abuser, I became that demon. My pretty little girl. I became my father." The self loathing was clear, as clear as a newly rung church bell.

More memories of his misdeeds where shown, his smooth hot voice telling her of his dark enjoyment. His transgressions played openly on the stage he had set for them. The look of his drunken power as he beat and killed a friend on his Dark Master's orders. The rush of excitement he felt when a new raid was announced. The sick pleasure he took from reading his doings in the paper. All the while she sobbed as one sickening scene replaced another. The last image he let her view was of Dumbledore's death, his words detached as he spoke.

"I was given a second chance, Miss. Granger. After all you have seen, I was handed a way to redeem myself and in the end I killed the man that gave it to me. Do you really think that I should still live? Should I still be able to walk the streets?"

Severus' face swam back into view. Hermione's own was puffy and red, tears still spilling from her eyes. She couldn't speak because of the pain filling her chest. A hurt so powerful that it made her scream Oh, it hurt, it hurt. So much pain! Unbearable pain. Blood started rushing from her chest pouring down her body. Severus' turned pale. His face was oddly stoic despite the change in color. His dark eyes traveled from her chest to his hand. There rested Hermione Granger's heart, still softly beating.

Severus swore. He bent down and tried to reattach it as he cursed her.

"You dunderheaded, idiotic, lunatic. Why in hell did you come here? What have you made me do?" His motions where frantic now. His face and voice echoing only fury. Hermione smiled in a sleepy manner her eyes still red rimmed against her pale face. Her dark curls mixing with her blood and tears as Severus tried to fix what he had broken.

She reached out her hand to brush her fingers against his chest. Once more she smiled that genteel smile before she shoved her hand into the hollow of his chest. Pain and shock filled him as he looked down at the hand that was still buried within him. Severus stumbled back her heart in his hand, his in hers.

"Why?" The sound was as shaky as his knees. She just looked at him for a moment that pleasant smile still on her face at odds with the blood that pooled around her.

"À bon chat, bon rat." He smiled in humor, a sort of smile he hadn't had for a very long time. His breath was coming in uneven pants now.

"Your madness is showing." Her smile widened, her eyes rather distant.

"So is yours."

With that this particular game of the insane ended. Both of them passed out in some dark corner of a rather disturbed mind.

:::

What happened next is rather unclear and ever since the event came to pass both the Department of Mysteries and the magical medical community have been tearing themselves apart trying to figure it out. Even the players themselves have little idea as to why they came to consciousness relatively unscathed, rather then mentally handicapped or even dead. As one would expect them to be. There has been much useless speculation but the best explanation that can be giving is that mind and magic move in mysterious ways. Or as our foul tempered potions master likes to put it, "I have no bloody idea."

Putting the reason of this event behind us, we find that on a sunny day in May, two days after Healer Granger had entered the mind of her patient and seven years since Professor Snape had fallen into his coma, both Severus Snape and Hermione Granger woke up, seemly unaffected. The magical world gasped in fascination, calling their recovery a magical miracle.

Hermione groaned as her dark eyes fluttered open the hideously white walls of St. Mungo's meeting her gaze. The low hum in the room made her head ache and throb in protest. She rolled her head slightly to one side trying to block out the blinding glare that was causing the pain in her temples.

Her eyes met those of Severus Snapes. All that could be heard was a buzz and the slight sounds of their breathing. Hermione smiled in amusement, it seemed the man was trying to rip her apart with only his gaze. She rolled her eyes at him.

After all if she could still lash back at him when he had literally torn out her heart, it was very unlikely that his glare would make her quiver in fear. The dagger in her temple twisted again as she turned to look above her. She frowned at the bleached ceiling her thoughts racing despite the pain in her skull. She could hear the rustling of bedclothes as Severus shifted besides her.

When she spoke her voice was as soft and crackled as a dried leaf.

"I thought I was dead." A small creak as the man shifted his weight again. His answer made her smile.

"Who says you're alive? I, after all, put a large amount of effort into killing you."

"It would be a shame if all that work went to waste." Her voice was filled with a hint of laughter but still as weak and crumpled as before.

"Yes it would." The words where barely a murmur almost drowned out by the muffled thrum of magic. Both of them sat for both a long and short space of time before speaking again.

"Why didn't we die?" Hermione looked over to see Severus staring up at the ceiling.

"Again, who said we didn't? Reality is simply our perception of the world, Miss. Granger. In that reality we died, in this one we live." Another long pause where Hermione absorbed the information. Her eyes roaming over the profile of Severus' face as she thought.

"So it wasn't real?" His expression twisted into that of exasperation.

"Haven't you been listening, you stupid girl?" Hermione huffed slightly in anger, she was hardly a little girl anymore or in fact stupid. Silence again filled the room. Severus broke it this time.

"What happened was no more or less real then what you make of it. Dreams, thoughts, ideas, memories are the same. If you think it is real then it is. If you don't think so, then it isn't. All this world is, is the matter of perception and relativity. You can choose to think you lived or choose to think you died or even not to think at all. In fact that would be most helpful to those of us who not wish to listen to your infernal blathering." Severus sighed turned his back to the girl. A moment passed and her next question made his back stiffen.

"If that's true, why do you think this world is a horrible place? That people are nothing but evil? Do nothing but evil?" For a long time Severus said nothing, even the sounds of his breathing could not be heard.

"You ask me that even after you saw...?" Hermione did not respond, her pretty brown eyes almost burnt into his back, so heavy was her gaze.

"I can't think anything else because I have no other reasoning. I have seen too much of true human nature to assume any differently."

"Do you think me... villainous?" A shutter ran through Severus' body and his answer was whispered. The simple words made tears well in the wild haired witch's deep brown orbs.

"Yes, I do." Hermione felt as if her heart was being clawed out all over again.

:::

Since the dramatic revival of our two mad hatters lives in the wizarding world returned to what it had always had been; not normal, per say, but the same illogical, frenzied, frenetic mess in which the magical world thrived. Healer Granger was placed on medical leave for two weeks before she was transferred to research. After all, St. Mungo's didn't want to loose her but, they hardly could allow her to keep on as if she hadn't broken thirty or more protocols, some terribly serious in nature.

Hermione hated her new posting with a passion. For while the work had interesting intellectual endeavors it did not have a sense of danger that her Gryffindor heart desired nor did it allow her rather bossy, if caring, nature any relief. It was, for the most part, book work and while not detestable this was not the kind of thing she had in mind when she had become a Healer. If she had wanted a job in research she would have taken one with the university, god knows how many placements they had offered her there. Regardless of her current feelings on the matter Hermione's life went on with a sort of tedium that she had not felt since she had formed a friendship with Harry and Ron.

As for the second half of our deranged duo. Severus had retaken his position as potion's master at Hogwarts. A move that surprised much of the magical community. After all, many had thought he would not have wanted to step foot with in the school again. Other then that very little else could be said, seeing as the man kept to himself and had little amusement in idle gossip.

So, it wasn't until almost four and three-quarter months had passed before both of our sweet lunatics started to feel the side effects of their little tête-à-tête.

Severus Snape arose in the same state as he had the last three mornings. In as a cold sweat from unremembered dreams, his eyes filled with the dank cracked ceiling of his rooms at Hogwarts. He felt like death warmed over. A trembling hand reached out to pull his body from the cramped bed in which it was currently residing. A few shuffling foots steps later found him at his mantel, his thin tapered fingers reaching into the powder that rested there. With the last of his waning energy he took to floo to St. Mungo's, only to pass out on the cool tile in the reception room.

Hermione's morning was an echo of Severus' with one notable difference. She had passed out on the tile floor in the bathroom of her own two bedroom flat and it was almost six hours later that one worried, nosy neighbor found her, sprawled out like a fallen angel.

The hospital room that the main characters of this story found themselves in was the one three flights above room 121. The numbers outside polished and glowing read: Room 421, Spell Damage. The room held only enough space for two beds, both at this time filled with breathing bodies, and as comfortable as any other temporary room within the hospital. However, one could not say that this space was peaceful. For the two within it would allow nothing but discord and a rather frazzled Healer could do nothing but stand uselessly by the wall and try not to get hit with the objects that were currently whizzing through the air.

"This is all your fault, you selfish little ninny." The sound of a glass jar braking punctuated this statement.

"MY FAULT! HOW IS IT MY FAULT? IF IT WASN'T FOR ME YOU WOULD HAVE NEVER LEFT HERE!" Another bottle flew as the helpless Healer tried to speak.

"Um-"

"My point exactly, Miss. Granger." The man's voice had gotten softer with his anger as the woman's had gotten louder. The hiss of her name was a dangerous warning that the witch didn't take time to heed.

"Ah, please-"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY SELFISH? IF I HADN'T GIVEN A GOOD HARD KICK TO THAT SELF PITYING ASS! YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN A CUCUMBER FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE!" The look of absolute fury that filled the face of Severus Snape would have frozen many in their tracks. Hermione just snorted at the site of it.

"Did it ever cross your mind that, perhaps, I liked being a 'cucumber' or that you could have just as easily killed me, rather then, as you like to put it 'saved' me?" At this point, the frantic Healer in hopes of stopping the fight opened his mouth and in the process started to dig his own grave.

"Every thing will be just fine. If both of you would just calm-"

"Fine!" The word was both hissed and screeched by the two powerful magical beings in the room. The wall shook at the word just as the Healer did. The poor dear man was like a wounded deer in the midst of wolves.

"I j-j-just-"

Outside the room the crowd dressed in lime green winced as a red light flashed. A long pause before the cacophony within started again. The crowd muttered nervously amongst themselves.

"So who is going in next?" The body of people shifted and rolled. No one was really in the mood to be stunned or knocked in the head with a flying object. Both of which was practically a guarantee seeing as what had happened to the last six Healers that had been sent within.

"Maybe we should just let them work it out on their own." A flood of agreement followed as another ear splitting shriek could be heard.

Now, to find the origin of this fight we have to travel back in time by about three hours. For that was when the first Healer had found the cause of both of their problems. The ill-fated lady had been so delighted at the knowledge. Ah, the sorry thing hadn't know what hit her, but anyways, Megan, for that was what the poor girl was called, Megan, had found the problem right off the bat and with a silliness that often comes with youth, told our couple. Told them that they where the first recorded 'soul mates' since 1502, when a young wizard had been said to have shared a bond, like theirs, linking him to a princess in Spain. Megan had practically beamed at the two stunned figures. When Hermione in a rather weak voice had asked her to explain, Megan had done so with delight. Chattering away as the moods of our two individuals grew darker.

"It must have been that incident, you know that one last May! Well, whatever happened it seems that your very being, your souls, has been fused. I have never seen anything like it!" A flick of her wand lit up the line she had seen before, the one that stretched from one person to another. It was a silvery color like a memory before it had been place in the bowl of a pensieve.

"What-?" The dazed sound of Severus voice only made Megan smile happily at them both before she went on with her her useless noise.

"I know, right, isn't all so romantic? I mean the need for the physical presents of each other might be a little rough but the shared emotions. Knowing what your loved one is thinking of all the time! All – the – time!" That is when Severus had hit her with a somewhat nasty spell. The spell that had started the row we had seen just before. A row that would be finished much later in the day with Severus passed out on the floor and Hermione stunned against the well. It would seem that this... sickness that they shared would not be discussed until much, much later.

:::

**A/N : Mutil-chapter stories always seem to make me feel as if they get worse and worse over time. Blah! Well! I dearly hope that that is not the case. Now, there are a few french words that might need a little explanation.**

**À bon chat, bon rat. - This is a french saying that is something along the lines of tit for tat. (lit.: a good rat for a good cat)**

**tête-à-tête - Is a personal conversation or a private conversation between two persons. (lit.: head-to-head) Get it head-to-head? It is almost like a pun! :p**

**Well I dearly hope the you had fun reading this and will consider sending me a review, good or bad, that tells me what you think!**

**Ta-ta for now, Drawkcab.**


	4. Chapter 4

The man was a bear. A bear dressed in the bright green robes that marked Healers in St. Mungo's. His face and body were wide harsh and not something to be messed with. His hair was light blonde and wild and thick around his face. His eyes a bright sharp gray, mostly blue, that told all who met him that he was not one to be intimidated. His name was Healer Jay Gallagher, Head of St. Mugo's temporary spell damage unit. Besides him was Megan, the poor medi-witch that had first treated our couple, looking rather pale under her tan. Her hazel eyes darting from side to side like a trapped animal waiting for a kick from its unamused master.

Before the large bulk of Healer Gallagher and the frightened twitches of Megan sat, tied neatly to two chairs, Hermione Granger and Severus Snape. Both looking on the edge of murder. The great rumble of Healer Gallagher's voice made Megan jump.

"Since all the damage that came to the room and medical personal last time you two talked about your condition, we have decided that it was best that both of you where restrained and silence before we start." Hermione and Severus said nothing. Gallagher didn't expect them to, seeing as they were silenced. He went on as Megan made a small chocking noise from his left, most likely because of the dark looks that marked the two patients faces.

"Now due to the occurrence last May, both of you are having some lingering physical side effects. These may or may not worsen over time and there seems to be no other treatment then a short period of time within each others company: four hours once every two weeks. I am sure both of you can handle that with out too much trouble." Here the Healer raised his eye brows slightly before continuing on.

"You may have to increase the time but for now that is all that is needed. As for Miss. Turpin's past comments of a neurological connection," Megan squeaked slightly at the mention of her name. "There is some indications. However, you most certainly will not be able to read each other thoughts." Healer Gallagher shot a reprimanding look at Megan making her squeak again.

"As far as I, or anyone else, can tell the only side effect from that are the physical sickness. Perhaps you might catch some emotion or thought from the other person. Typically, if they are of a particularly strong in nature and if you are in physical contact with the other person. Now I am going to unsilence you. If you have any questions, feel free to ask Miss. Turpin as I have other duties to attend to." Megan's eyes were wide in horror as she watched the older Healer walk from the room. Her eyes glazed over with the beginnings of tears as Megan turned back to the two in front of her.

:::

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Severus Snape stood in his private lab stirring a very volatile potion. The deep greenish blue a soothing balm on his soul. One last turn and...

Tap. Tap. Tap.

His grip on the handle on the stirring rod tightened his right hand shaking slightly with anger as he added the bumbleblade and lowered the heat. Next the...

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Stop." The low treating hiss of Severus' voice matched the soft crackle and bubble of the room around him. He reached the third clockwise turn before a slightly bemused voice answered; clear sweet and out of place in the low sounds of Severus' sanctuary.

"Stop what?" Severus could feel his temper flaring as his hands finished the tenth circle over the now purpleish red of the bubbling liquid.

"You know very well what." He could practically feel her exasperation and stifled amusement.

"I hope you know that just because you say I know something doesn't actually mean that I know it." Severus simply glared at Hermione's half smiling face and returned to his elixir. If she was going to be purposely obtuse there was nothing for it. The damn tapping started once more, the end of her quill hitting the edge of her desk in the rhythm of a long forgotten muggle song. The beat tickling some distant corner of Severus' mind. He had heard this song some where before. Severus' felt his irritation rising again and unsuccessfully tried to push it back down.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Severus' face snarled down at the glittering surface of his brew as if the poor liquid was what was causing all his troubles and not the woman the was lounging in a cramped desk chair just a few feet behind him. One month, fourteen hours and fifteen something minutes: That was the time it had been since his life long sentencing by Healer Gallagher. He was now doomed to spend part of his life with the woman that had forced him to live, or at least exist, in the world he had been trying to escape.

Severus almost paused when he realized that the sound of Miss. Granger's restlessness had stopped. He glanced slyly back at Hermione. Her gaze was intense and focused as if she was looking at a problem she could not quite find the answer to. Severus returned his eyes to his potion. He hated it when she looked at him like that because it usually meant that she would start talking and the one thing that Severus hated more then her infernal fidgeting, the double damned woman could never hold still, was when she talked.

Something about her voice, sweet, eloquent, the sound made a part of his psyche awake as it never had before. Severus' shifted his weight slightly at the thought. He didn't like the feeling. It was... uncomfortable. Hermione sighed and rustled in her chair. A clear sign that she wanted to say something but was still finding the right words before she voiced her thoughts. She clicked her tongue against her teeth and began to speak.

"Do you remember the day you woke from your coma?" Severus didn't look back at her when he spoke his voice almost too low to be heard.

"Yes."

"You told me that our lives are nothing but what we make of them. Do you remember that?" Severus didn't answer this time. Hermione bore on anyways.

"That day you told me that you thought that people were evil, because the only experiences you had where the ones that showed you evil. That day..." Here Hermione's voice broke slightly as she fought down tears.

"That day you said you thought I was... just as evil as any other person you had met. That I was villainous, monstrous, horrible. Why..." Again she choked.

"Why do you think that?"

"You ask this after all you have done?" Hermione answer was weak.

"Yes. I... I want to know." A hiss this time the kind that made many men and women draw back in fear.

"Yes. Yes. You always are so curious and so thickheaded." There was a slight pause as Severus cast a charm over his potion and turned to face her.

"Miss. Granger. Miss. Granger, Miss. Granger, Miss. Granger. You delved into my mind, without my permission, to pull me out of a coma that I did not want to be pulled out of and still you have the nerve, the stupidity, to ask me why I don't think you are as wholesome as you think you are."

"I was trying to help you!" The words made Severus' face curl in distaste.

"Have you ever heard the saying, 'The road to hell is paved with good intentions?' What you did to me was closer to rape or assault then it was to any kind of _help_."

"I didn't mean..."

"It doesn't matter what you meant. It matters what you _did_ and now not only you have to face the consequences of your actions." Severus turned back to his potion and began to work again.

"What if I could change your mind?" Severus snorted.

"About what, Miss. Granger?"

"About my actions. About people. You said that the world is what we make of it." Severus half turned to look solidly at Hermione.

"No, Miss. Granger. You have done enough, I do not need to be _fixed_. Just leave me alone."

"No." Seveurs' snarled at the word.

"No?"

"No."

"And why the hell not?"

"I hurt you. I may not of meant to, but I did. I can't just leave that as it is. I may not be able to go back and stop myself from waking you but I can try to make what I did right. If not in your mind then at least in mine." Severus' smile was bitter and his voice biting.

"And what if you just make things worse? What then, Miss. Granger?"

"I don't know. I can only do my best to make sure that something like that doesn't happen."

"Ah yes, your best. That is _so_ reassuring. Knowing that you will be doing your _best _to, again, ignore what _I_ desire."

Hermione didn't reply. She just turned her eyes back to the page before her. Severus stood a moment looking at her before he too returned his full attention to the hissing cauldron in front of him. A few minutes later the room again was filled the the sound of a blue feathered quill hitting the side of a worn desk.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

:::

In our freckle little tale we must now focus on other major characters in our plot and that is why we find ourselves outside the Potter residence on a fine day in late January. A bright morning with a crisp sweet wind blowing from the east and a peek of sunshine that would warm your cheeks if you gave it a chance.

Now you may think that the character that was referred, would be Mr. Potter or even his new live in girlfriend Miss. Ginny Weasley that, however, that is not the case. No, we cast our scene in a different area of the house. To be specific, the downstairs kitchen, where two house elves could be found arguing over a hot pot of stew that was meant to be that night's dinner.

"You's over salted the soup." Kreacher insult was clear as day to the pretty young house elf that stood besides him as with a quick flick of her finger she whacked him in the back of his head with the wooden spoon that sat beside him.

"You's won't talk to Dollie like that! Oh noes you won't! Missys told me that I's should break you's of that habit." Kreacher just glared at Dollie and her large blue eyes.

"Missys' bad blood. Good elves don't listen to her, even Hogwart's ones know better." Again the spoon struck the back of Kreacher's skull. Kreacher snarled before turning to cut a innocent looking turnip. The sorry thing didn't stand a chance.

"You's don't talk about Missys like that! She's done more for me then any of your's." Kreacher gave a nasty half smile.

"That's because you's and she's got more in common then a two peas in a pod." Dollie beamed before Kreacher spoke his next few words.

"Not a lick of sense between the two of you's." Dollie gritted her teeth as she cast a sharp eye towards a copper frying pan. Kreacher quickly changed the subject.

"What's you doing heres anyway? Missys doesn't send yous most nights." Tears welled up in Dollies eyes making Kreacher fidget and look away.

"Somethings been wrong with Missys! For months and months. She gets hurt whens I's away, passes out on the floor and never ever is she the same, always always sad, never never home. Even before she is hurt at the job. Missys is not right and there is nothings I's can do!" The shrill crying sent Kreacher into a panic his eyes twice the size as he tried to do something, anything, to get Dollie to stop.

"Missys will be fine. Shes always is." Dollie just sobbed louder at the words.

"Nots this time! Not this time!" Kreacher shifted nervously before awkwardly sliding his arm around the distress elf.

"Don'ts worry. We'll help her. We'll fix her. That what good elves do." Dollie's tears slowed but didn't stop. Kreacher gave her a rather ghastly smile one the Dollie returned tearfully. An hour later the stew was simmering happily and unknown to anyone else, two rather devilish house elves were hatching a plot.

:::

At nightfall of the same day we find ourselves in the upper compartments of the Potter home. In the sitting room were Miss. Weasley and Mr. Potter sat having a light tea after a rather heavy dinner. The fire in the room the only source of light, making a silhouette of Harry's bent frame. His head in his hands. His glasses on the table by an untouched cup of tea. Ginny stood in the doorway of the room a worried look upon her face. Her own tea cupped in her hand and just as full as Harry's.

"Harry?" He looked up and gave a grim smile.

"I am alright, Gin. Just worried."

"You're always worried Harry. It's one of the things I like best about you," and almost in an after tone, "and one of the things I hate most too." Harry smiled happily at the last part and patted the cushion beside him.

"Don't loom in the dark, love, I might mistake you for Snape." Ginny half grinned and snuggled herself down into Harry's side.

"So who is worrying you this time? Ron?"

"No, Hermione. Ever since the break up between the two both have been..." Harry searched for a word, "off. I thought that Ron was the most broken up about it but now. I don't know Gin. She tried to kill herself last May. Maybe if I had been there for her more she wouldn't have done it." Tears filled his eyes as he looked down on Ginny. Ginny just looked up at him her face serious.

"Harry I highly doubt you could have stopped her. She's been torn up about Snape since the day they found him alive in the that dirty old house. Maybe Ron was just the push she needed to do something about it. You know her, crazy as a bat and brilliant for it. If you where there she would most likely have stunned you and gone in anyway." Harry's amused look was stained with tears.

"I know Gin. It's just she spend more time with Snape then she does us now."

"I think it's her way of healing, Harry. She never did quite move past what happened in the war. Never let it heal at all. I think it was because of him. It ripped open her heart everyday at work. What she needs now is space." Harry kiss her his eyes bright green in the dim light of the dark room.

"I don't know what I would do with our you, Gin. I love you." A smile from Harry's love and another sweet kiss passed between them.

"I love you too, Harry."

A short space away two magical beings departed from the kitchen to start their self assigned mission.

:::

**A/N : Thank you all so much for all the wonderful reviews! I am sorry it took so long for me to update. I just got a new job and it took a few days to adjust! Please, please, please tell me what you think of this chapter! It really means a lot to me to hear from you guys! You all are my muse! :) **

**Happy days! **


	5. Chapter 5

The damned woman was a nightmare! His sordid past was nothing compared to this, this hell he had been living in for the last four days. Hermione had found a way past his numerous wards and how she got in was a rather frustrating mystery. The books in his office and personal library had been rearranged in some sort of muggle system, so he couldn't find anything. His notes had been taken, rewritten, reorganized and now boasted a title page and index. Any ignorant snot could find out the secrets to his work if they bothered to learn how to read. Not one aspect of his life had been untouched by the thrice damned woman.

Breakfast in the Great Hall was now 'healthier.' The chair in his office had better back support and his grade book was done in such a way that it now only gave him a mild headache. The worst part of it all was the fact that Severus rather liked the changes, even the more invasive ones, and that was something he had real trouble living with. That and the fact that everyday after his classes the little woman could be found in his quarters. Sometimes working on something from St. Mungo's, other times reading one of his books, but always there waiting for him like a newlywed wife. Everyday if one passed by Professor Snape's quarters, no doubt, would you find Severus forcibly ejecting Hermione from his rooms.

Today the difference was not in a large way but a small one. The kind of difference that one only notices in hindsight. This was the kind of difference that life was made out of. Today Severus did not immediately enter his rooms. On this Tuesday in the late afternoon Severus Snape stood outside his door inspecting the aged wood. He stood there for exactly four minutes and forty eight seconds. While this small incident may not seem like anything to you or me, this was, for Severus and Hermione, the equivalent of the flap of a butterfly's wings, the pebble that broke the pond's surface.

In four minutes and forty eight seconds Severus replayed the last four days of his life. While this may not have made a difference if his apartments were empty, the fact that they were full made all the difference in the world. Because of those few minutes or, perhaps, because of the days that came before them, a conversation started. One that would not change the nature of Hermione and Severus' relationship but would get the ball rolling. That conversation went something like this:

"You know that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." Here Hermione grinned wildly. The kind of smile that told others that the witch didn't quite have all her marbles in her bag.

"Albert Einstein, very nice, but, I do hope you know that trying to convince an insane person that they are insane is in itself insane." Hermione's voice was half laughing as she talked, the kind of cheer that was infectious. Severus drew back. His face turned from a bland neutral to a cold mask. Hermione rush forward to speak again knowing that her time was running out.

"Do you know what the definition of insanity really is, you know, medically speaking? " Hermione didn't give him time to answer.

"It's a severely disordered state of the mind that usually occurs in a specific disorder. A disorder that is order in its own way."

The exchange ended there and the difference of that day was gone. Hermione was shown the door, she left and Severus went on with his life trying desperately to pretend that nothing had changed.

:::

Often times when one wishes goodness onto others they forget to ask: Will this be greeted with thanks? If one does take the time to ask that question, they next have to ask if they will do the deed whether they are thanked or not. Now when dealing with a person like Severus Snape you have to change from the option of not being thanked to the question: Will you or will you not be hexed?

While this may have mattered something to Hermione. It didn't hold any value to the house elves, Dollie and Kreacher. Seeing as the culture and thought process of these beings was vastly different from the kind you find in a human society. In their world you were honor bond to help those you have chosen as your charges. It did not matter if you were thanked. It did not matter if you were hexed. To not do something was considered a great ignominy, a kind of shame that could last for generations. The sort of questions seen in the last paragraph were, to house elves, a kind of Hobson's choice. This element in house elf culture explained a lot about the events that had happened to Harry in his second year, but we are straying from the subject.

The issue being Dollie and Kreacher's plot to help Missys or as she is more widely known, Hermione. So we find the two in the depths of Hogwarts huddled over pages of scattered news print. Their large bat like ears and bald little heads bend over in search of something.

"What are you doing?" The voice was dreamy sounding and very distinctly human. Both Kreacher and Dollie jumped turning their wide tennis ball eyes to the table just behind them. From the side closest stuck a pale face surrounded by a mass of short tangled blonde hair. The checkered green tablecloth a back drop making the woman look rather like a turtle with a tiny head and a oversized shell.

"Nothings! We's are doing nothings!" Dollie squealed trying to gather up the numerous number of papers in her small arms. The young human army crawled from under her make-shift tent to snatch up a leaflet, making Dollie drop all the papers she had in her arms, run over and try to remove the incriminating material from the witches hand. The poor little elf half succeeded as she fell back the ripped newspaper in clutched in her fist. Luna eyed the dazed elf for a moment before she looked down at the half she and managed to keep. In bold times new roman lettering, the title shouted from the page, '_Magical Medical ____Miracle__of the Mind!'_ under that was a very well known head of bushy hair with its owner's face partially torn away.

"Oh~! You're Dollie, Hermione's poster elf for SPEW. I have heard about you."

"I is not Dollie! I don'ts know what yous are talkings about!" Luna looked dreamily pass the upset elf to a seemingly empty space behind it. Luna rolled onto her back her eyes still fixed on that blank space. Her interest in the two elves gone. The human woman giggled to herself and wiggled like a worm a few feet forward. It was an awkward movement seeing as she was still flat on her back, her gazed fixed on something that could only be seen by her.

Dollie's heart rate slowed as she watched the human. It seemed she wouldn't be a threat to their plans. Kreacher sat in the exact place as he had before just watching the melodrama with a little amusement as it played out before him. Dollie gave him a rather frazzled look, her eyes wide, Kreacher just smirked. A crooked sort of grin that made Dollie's anger flare to life.

"What's you doing over there lookesing like that! You shoulda been helping me you lazy-! LAZY-! TOAD!" Kreacher's smirk turned into a full blown grin.

The rage in Dollie's steps were clear as she moved towards him. Her eyes gleaming with murder. The event that happened next stopped her in her tracks. Luna, who had at this point been scooting about the floor happily, sat up. Her eyes still rather glazed but much clearer then they had been before.

"I know what you're doing." Both sets of large tennis balls sized eyes turned towards her. Kreacher's rather dull and uninterested; Dollie's filled with a mild terror.

"What?" Dollie's voice was a higher then her normal squeak, an almost glass breaking pitch. Kreacher continued to look bored.

"I know what you're doing." Luna said again as if Dollie really needed her question answered.

"Yous don't knows nothing!" Kreacher was trying to hold back a snigger the situation becoming funnier by the second.

"I know – _everything!_"The words were drawn out in a ridiculous manner, causing Kreacher to snort with laughter. Dollie sent him a rather nasty look. Just like that one more person joined in on the mad charade that was cooking. While Dollie seemed to think that the add-on would put a kink in their plans. Kreacher had a different idea altogether. He watched with one large eye as the blonde witch went back to wiggling over the floor. Luna maybe some sort of help.

:::

Severus knew there was something deeply wrong when he entered his rooms. The lighting was low, as it had not been in weeks. Hermione made sure of that. It almost seemed to Severus as if her presence was what lit his rooms and not the candles that lined the walls. Now it was dark as a moonless night, even as the candles tried to cast out a glow. The light flickered slightly as he passed to set down his papers. Making the little lights dim from starlight to the light of fireflies. Small pinpricks in the otherwise black room.

That feeling of wrongness deepened as he heard snuffling and the soft sound of tears. Some cord within him tightened as he neared the source. He tried to force up some anger at the woman that was curled up in _his_ high backed chair but found that each spark was snuffed out as easily as the candles. So he said nothing as he sat himself across from her. The fire in the hearth was only coals and did very little to illuminate the tear stained face of Hermione Granger.

The silence stretched for several long minutes as Hermione wiped tears from her face and did her best to compose herself. Severus was the one who spoke first.

"You do know that I have enough of my plate without dealing with hysterical witches who enjoy breaking into my home, _just_ to blubber all over my favorite chair." Hermione let out a hiccup and a small smile at his words.

"W-What c-c-can I say? It's the b-best chair I have e-ever found to cry in." Severus smirked in the darkness. While the little women was rather irksome and in no small part crazed Severus had to confess, even if only to himself, that she _was_ amusing when she put her mind to it. Or maybe Severus just enjoyed tormenting himself. He paused at that thought. It wasn't unlikely seeing as to the amount of time he had spent willingly with Albus, and a little less willingly with Voldemort. Her voice tugged him out of his thoughts.

"Severus?" He twitched slightly at the sound of his name from her mouth. He still wasn't used to her using it.

"Yes."

"Do you think there is such a thing as infinity?" She put her head on her knees and tucked her bare feet more securely under her as she spoke. Severus took a long moment to look at her hunched silhouette.

"Why does it matter?" Hermione laughed slightly at the side step he took to avoid the question.

"It matters because if there is such a thing as infinity then not all things come to an end and endings are one of the biggest things in life. Endings are the reasons religions are made. Endings are what we are all racing towards. To find the end. Fairy tales and stories make people think that when the end comes everything will be okay. That in the end all will be alright. That the prince gets the princess. That they live happily ever after. The End." She said the words again in a softer voice, "The End."

Severus shifted uncomfortably, not quite sure what to say. For if he was to tell himself the truth he had been looking for an end as well. The end of the war. The end of his life. The end of dealing with the world. After a long moment Hermione prompted him again.

"So do you think that the infinite is real? Do you think there is something out that's endless?" Severus again avoided the question.

"Some say that endings are just new beginnings." Hermione didn't take the bait.

"I didn't ask what 'some people' say. I asked what you thought." Severus leaned back and sighed.

"I don't know. I don't think anyone can really know. After all just because we can't find the end of something doesn't mean it doesn't exist."

"I liked to think there is. Infinity, I mean. Because if there really is an infinity it has to be unbounded."

"Oh?"

"And if it's unbounded that means that everything exists. That everything is important because if it wasn't there the infinite would no longer be infinite." Here Severus laughed rather bitterly and replied.

"The infinite exists. It is there. If the infinite had no _me_, the _me_ would be it's limit; it would not be infinite; in other words, it would not be. But it is. Then it has _me_. This _me_ of the infinite is God." Hermione made a startled sound.

"I didn't know that you read muggle literature." Severus didn't answer but rather changed the course of the conversation.

"You never told me what brought you to the rash and illegal actions of breaking in and in an even worse offense getting your tears and snot all over _my_ chair." A bit of spark filled Hermione's eyes at his words and Severus felt that feeling of wrongness that was lingering around the room fade.

"If you really _must_ know..."

"It's my right seeing the terrible damage you have done to my possessions." Here Hermione squeaked with outrage.

"DAMAGE!"

"Yes damage." Severus caressed the words.

"If you really _must_ know!" She was not interrupted this time, "I was upset because I heard... I heard about Ron's engagement."

"Out." Severus' voice snapped against her.

"What?"

"Out. Out of my chair. Out of my house. Out of my life. OUT!"

"Why?"

"Because you are a ridiculous and frivolous witch."

"Now out." Hermione quite used to being thrown from Severus' rooms was herded along with much difficultly.

"I am NOT being ridiculous!" Severus just snorted and pushed her towards the door. Muttering under his breath about over dramatic witches disturbing his peace of mind.

"She's pregnant!" This made Severus pause just long enough for Hermione to slip away from him.

"Ron's _Fiancée_ she's pregnant! Eight and a half months. That's why they are getting married. H-h-he h-he was cheating on me." Tears started to well up in her eyes again, making Severus blanch slightly before he reaffirmed his will.

"Fine, you may not be frivolous but you _are_ ridiculous. So out! Your pity party is not welcome here." Hermione's anger was sparked again.

"PITY PARTY? RIDICULOUS?"

"You act as if you are the first person to ever be betrayed or as if such news will kill you. Both are ridiculous and your self pity will help no one." Severus closed the door on a spluttering Hermione. He sighed and for a moment his mind wandered back to a pretty red head from his past. A twinge of hurt still rang at the thought of her betrayal. Severus looked back at the door he had just shut in Hermione's red face. He smiled. The anger would help her get through the pain. Even if it was not directed at what caused it.

Severus poured himself a glass of whiskey and settled before the dying coals of the fire. He had no doubt that when he found her in his quarters on the morrow, she would be sitting in his chair and have a thing or two about what he had said to her. For now though, he could enjoy his drink.

:::

**A/N : I am so sorry that it took this long to get up the new chapter. I got trapped in writer's block. I wouldn't write: making myself feel guilt, which would make me not want to write, making me feel more guilty. But anyway! Here we are! I love reviews they really make my day. Thank you all for taking time to read this story (even if you don't review)! :)**

**_"The infinite exists. It is there. If the infinite had no me, the me would be it's limit; it would not be infinite; in other words, it would not be. But it is. Then it has me. This me of the infinite is God." - __Les Misérables_ by Victor Hugo.**


End file.
